


Felled in the Night (by the ones you think you love)

by WishingOnWhishaw



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cannibalism, Cooking, Creepy Hannibal, Dark, Drug Use, Food Kink, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Kidnapping, Lies, M/M, Manipulative Hannibal, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Vore, obviously, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 19:34:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishingOnWhishaw/pseuds/WishingOnWhishaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal wants Will, and what Hannibal wants, Hannibal gets. The problem is that Mr. Graham is surrounded by people at the FBI, but Hannibal can take care of that. Now he just needs to decide whether he wants Will dead or alive. Is it better to have him on his couch, or on his dinner plate?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Felled in the Night (by the ones you think you love)

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fic posted here, my first in this fandom, and the first one I've written as a prompt fill. Woo for the firsts!
> 
> In my head this is set just after Buffet Froid, and strays off the canon path from there. I'm not quite sure if I did the prompt justice, I just kind of took it and ran. I'll leave a link for the original prompt in the notes at the end.
> 
> The title of this fic is from the song 'Daniel in the Den' by Bastille, so credit to them for that. This work has also not been beta read, only proofread by me, so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Enjoy!

The moment Hannibal first laid eyes on Will Graham, he couldn't help but think what a delicious meal he would make. Of course, he was hindered by the fact Will worked for the FBI, not to mention he had Jack Crawford constantly looking over his shoulder, pretending that he cared for the empath. Hannibal was more than aware that Jack was only concerned with covering himself. That's what made it easy, really. Nobody wanted to help Will Graham. Like Hannibal, Jack and his team were only concerned with how far they could push Will, what they could get out of him and how much use he could be before he broke completely, unable to put the pieces back together. Hannibal would be lying if he said he wasn't grateful for that.

 

Of course, Hannibal had to suppress his urges in order to avoid suspicion. He had to maintain his role as the unofficial psychiatrist, looking out for Will's mental state as Jack continued to place him in situations that were slowly tearing parts of Will's own personality away. But as this went on, Hannibal couldn't help but become fascinated by Will. The young agent was something special indeed, and as he revealed more of himself Hannibal couldn't decide whether he wanted to keep Will and watch him fall, or if he wanted to push Will over the edge and take pleasure from picking his brain, devouring Will's brilliant mind, fried in butter and flavoured with parsley, perhaps. Hannibal was forced into opting for the former, and he wasn't sure whether he was pleased or disappointed. 

 

As time went on Will slipped further and further away from sanity and Hannibal watched, fascinated as the man came undone before him. In such a state, Will was so much easier to control, for Hannibal to manipulate and do what he liked. He was nothing if not an opportunist, and never had Hannibal faced a better opportunity than that presented by Will Graham. Hannibal told him the truth, albeit exaggerated, that Will was losing himself to the mentalities he assumed, that the killers he thought like were taking away the very things that made him different from them. Hannibal told him that Will was in danger of causing harm to himself and to others, that with such a condition he could commit the crimes of the murderers he strives to catch without even realising he did so. Will was like a deer frozen in the headlights before the fear kicked in and he ran. And Hannibal was there, ready to catch him when he eventually did.

 

Jack was told exactly the same thing, that Will was quickly becoming more of a liability than a help to the FBI. It was easy to convince them really, what with Will having contaminated a crime scene and the episodes he clearly experienced. Hannibal must remember to thank the young man for being such an assistance to his plan. It was in both Hannibal's and Alana's professional opinion that Will needed to get out of this whilst he could, and Will was more than happy to agree. The deer ran, and without Will tying him to the FBI, Hannibal was free to chase him. Of course, doing so right away would be reckless, so Hannibal granted him some freedom. He watched, stalking his prey and waiting for the right moment to attack. As predicted, Will distanced himself from Virginia and all that had haunted him there, or at least that was his intention. In all his time away, the stag never left Will. It was always there, watching and waiting. Not always seen, but it's presence was felt nonetheless.

 

Hannibal allowed nearly three months to pass before moving in on Will. He had deemed it safe now, with the man away from all those who would have asked questions. There was nobody left to miss Will, leaving Hannibal free to do what he wanted. He'd kept a close eye on the broken man, of course. No signs of major improvement, as he'd expected.

 

The lock on Will's front door was much to easy to pick, and the dogs sleeping in the living room recognised Hannibal's scent, remaining quiet and happily accepting the sausage offered to them. Hannibal moved carefully and quietly through the house, going upstairs and finding Will's bedroom, watching the man sleep before moving to the bed. Will remained peaceful as Hannibal injected him with a general anaesthetic, the weight of the man causing little difficulty in moving him from his home and into Hannibal's car. He smiled as he drove away, glancing into the rear view mirror at Will who was now laying across the back seats. Hannibal smirked at how wonderfully easy this had been.

 

* * *

 

Hannibal set his plate down on the table and poured himself a glass of wine—a 2004 Savagnin Blanc from the Chateau-Chalon wine region—before sitting down and picking up his cutlery. He couldn't help but let out a moan of appreciation as he took a bite of his food. His instincts had been right, Will Graham had indeed made a wonderful meal, even if Hannibal did say so himself. He placed another forkful into his mouth and another noise sounded, a groan this time, only it didn't come from Hannibal. The doctor looked up across the table and grinned as Will's eyes blinked open and blearily looked around the room, clearly trying to think of where he was and piece together how he'd got here. Hannibal carefully set down his knife and fork, offering an almost malicious smile to his guest.

 

"Will, how nice of you to join me," he said pleasantly, watching for a short while as the confusion crossed his face before returning to his meal.

 

"D-doctor Lecter?" He stammered, the drugs still not having worn off completely. "What am I- Ah!" He exclaimed, cutting himself off as a pain seared up from somewhere near his right hip. Hannibal didn't react to the outburst, simply continuing to eat.

 

"Yes, do be careful," he said when he'd swallowed his mouthful. "It would do you little good to rupture your sutures." Hannibal spoke in a calm, almost bored voice, but Will was starting to panic.

 

"Sutures?" He repeated, his breaths coming faster as he looked around, completely oblivious to whatever had gone on. Hannibal sighed tiredly, dabbing at a bit of sauce on the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

 

"Yes, sutures. You could hardly be left open after such a major operation." Hannibal looked up just in time to see Will's face blanch before the younger man's jaw clenched, clearly doing his best not to lose it, given the pain he'd experienced a few minutes previously.

 

"What happened to me?" He said, voice as calm as he could manage and yet the tone was still demanding. Hannibal was seriously reconsidering his decision to keep Will alive at this moment, growing frustrated with the other man and his questions.

 

"I brought you here," he replied simply, taking a sip of wine before continuing. "I kept you unconscious and have removed your right kidney, hence the sutures. Now, if the pain is troubling you, I can, by all means, give you some medication. If not, I would appreciate you keeping any further questions until after my meal, or I may be tempted to take away some of your more vital organs." 

 

Will remained quiet after that, whether from the shock of what he'd just been told or the fear that Hannibal would carry through on his threat, the doctor wasn't sure. He assumed it was a mixture of the two. Hannibal could not say that he cared as he continued to eat, the soft sound of Beethoven's Pathetique Piano Sonata No. 8 filling the room around them as Hannibal savoured each mouthful of his meal. Hannibal moaned around another bite, unable to help himself. He looked up then, eyes dark and fixed on Will's terrified ones as another forkful of the kidney in a crème fraîche and mustard sauce entered the older man's mouth. The thought that he was eating Will, along with the eye contact that the empath so hated stirred something inside of Hannibal and suddenly his food was not at the forefront of his mind. Still, there was no way that Hannibal was going to waste this meal, despite the fact his body's response meant he was a little uncomfortable now. He took another bite, a deep and satisfied sound escaping him as he closed his eyes from the pleasure.

 

"I must admit," he said huskily, opening his eyes again to look at Will. "That you are much more delicious than I had anticipated. Your scent is very misleading," he chuckled darkly, basking in the horror taking over Will's face as Hannibal reached down, pressing the heel of his palm into the bulge that had now formed in his trousers in an attempt to relieve himself a little. Will made small whimpers as Hannibal continued to eat what he now knew to be his own kidney, the noises only fuelling the doctor's growing arousal. Eventually though they began to get rather annoying, and with a stern and threatening look from Hannibal, Will was silenced once more. Much, _much_  too easy.

 

Hannibal let out a very small sound of disappointment when he had cleared his plate, but the fact he had taken his time in eating meant he had deprived himself in other ways.  However, it would be rude to deal with this at the table, and so Hannibal was now faced with the challenge of getting Will back to bed so he could retire to his own room. Or maybe his manners could be excused for this one night. After all, attempting to help Will now would probably only result in him struggling, doing damage to himself and going against Hannibal's intentions of keeping the empath alive. He shifted in his chair, reaching down to undo his pants and sighing as some of the pressure was alleviated. And now that Hannibal allowed himself to think about it, he couldn't stop. His mind was racing with the idea that that Will was inside him, that he'd had the satisfaction of consuming this man and still left his mend relatively unharmed. He doubted that it would take much for Will to recover. If anything, his physical injury was the worst concern. But Hannibal found it difficult to concentrate on such matters right now, so he pushed the thought away and slipped his hand inside of his briefs, groaning as his hand wrapped around himself. Normally Hannibal would consider this to be terribly inappropriate, but the way that Will made him feel, how good the other man tasted, Hannibal couldn't help but get aroused. Will watched in horror, fully aware of what his captor was doing, because that what Hannibal was now. He had taken Will from the safety of his home, cut him open and had him for dinner. Will wasn't sure whether or not he should be thankful that Hannibal had kept him alive. The doctor, on the other had, was _very_  glad of the decision that he'd made, as having Will sitting there, watching as his own organs were eaten, only fuelled the desire that had built up within Hannibal. Now the desire was like a wildfire, its heat spreading through the doctor's body uncontrollably, making him more desperate. And Hannibal felt no urge to contain it.

 

Hannibal allowed his eyes to meet the younger man's, drinking in the fear there as he stroked himself slowly. Will could barely move due to his wound, so he was trapped in this room that was quickly filling with the soft sighs of pleasure that fell from Hannibal's lips. Hannibal thought it was divine, that everything about Will was divine. A groan forced itself out of his mouth as his movements sped up and he tightened his hand around his cock, pleasuring himself to the memory of how Will had tasted, how he was the best meal that Hannibal could ever remember having. Will shifted uncomfortably, wincing at the situation and hating himself for the effect it was having on his own body. Hannibal grinned darkly at Will, the urge to make further delicious masterpieces out of the broken man too strong to ignore. And it was with an imagine of cutting into Will again, of turning him into a gourmet dish a savouring every perfect morsel that Hannibal came with a rough grunt, his former patient wincing across the table at what happened.

 

Hannibal frowned as he looked down at the mess he had made, inwardly reprimanding himself for his lack of self control. He took out a handkerchief and cleaned himself off as best as he could before pulling up his pants and trousers back up and getting to his feet. He drank in the horror on the empaths face, dropping his handkerchief onto his dirty plate and giving a genuine chuckle.

 

"Don't worry Will, I have only come to assist you in getting to bed. I do not think you are a in a fit state to even stand, and it would not do to have you injure yourself further." Will avoided Hannibal's gaze but accepted the doctor's help, knowing that the other man was right, and also fearing what would happen if he refused. Hannibal carried Will upstairs with ease, laying the empath down in the guest bedroom and tending to him I'm a surprisingly caring manner before giving him a sedative and retiring to his own bed for the night, falling asleep with a satisfied smirk, his head filled with tantalising thoughts of Will and all he could do with him, for once not bothered by the mess he had failed to clear up downstairs. For now, that could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Link to the original prompt post: http://hannibalkink.dreamwidth.org/2676.html?thread=4681588#cmt4681588


End file.
